Fishing Tale

Teriiska RopeFloat


take ———– rope ———strength ———–is—–the——- thing

take some floats – with a single space like a ring

thread the float with the strong rope thing

take another float – like bangle thin

add to the string to stretch the idea

repeat while busy



until you have the length you need

it becomes a strong arm to stretch a net

and save it from drowning in the sea

I hope it will catch

sparkly fishes

for you

and you

with your arm

around me


Photo: Tersiiska:Flickr – Used with Permission

The Letter

Tersiiska Chambord WindowThe window was the aperture this evening.  Around him though, the room was dark.  The darkness made it infinite in size because it’s warm walls were inaccessible in the silence.  On the ceiling the fan bumped at each rotation. Some rustling from it’s air by her letter on the table. He’d eagerly opened it’s envelope in the light of the day gone past and now stood there and watched out the window as the world got dark in the dusky haze of what he had read. Waiting for some revelation to stream through and enlighten his spirit.  Listening the ocean waves organized the sound in a kind of crashing on the beach below. She’d gone now, so it read. Back to the other side of that enormous ocean. The crashing waves emphasizing the letter’s inevitability.

What was the window without her,

when the home had borne her smile and tears.

Years she had spent here looking out

 and stroking the sill with her fears.

How much starlight through that window would come before that moment when it’s nightly spell would splinter into her laughter and dance when she might return and prove the letter wrong.


photo : Window at Chambord : Used with Permission from Flickr:Tersiiska

The bookmark reflection

‘Hate that book’ – he muttered – looking at rather than talking to his phone.  Walking faster now he arrived at the bookshop and glanced up.  A woman was sitting there reading a book – he could see through the window – just sipping a coffee and kind of smiling, deep in reading thought.  He thought he recognized the book and one he had recently read himself.

‘Hi’ he said catching her eye on entering the shop.  ‘Hello’ she said carefully looking him over and suddenly not smiling.

‘I loved that….Jane Cenion really knows how to write.’ he said, pointing at her book.

‘Yes, I like it as well’ she said.  Determined not to keep going with this conversation.


‘What are you reading ?’ she asked, quite sure that he probably wasn’t reading anything.

‘Oh – just some dumb book someone gave me.  I hate it.’

‘Oh really ?’ she enquired, suddenly brightening.

‘Ah you woudn’t know it.  It’s called Grimus’.

‘O – I’ve read that.   What else do you hate ?’ – she said.

Well – so he started, remembering at random almost all the books that he hated. Kids books, Celeb Biography, Poetry, History books.  Fiction books with no plot.  Anything so called post modern.  After a while he noticed she’d been taking a list of all the books he hated so much.

‘What are you doing ?? he demanded !’.

“Oh it’s nothing – don’t worry. I’m on a 365 challenge you know.  I’ve found it hard but a focus to read all the books that people tell me they hate.  People love to hate things, you know, different reasons. Even things they start out loving and saying how great they are.  They can end up hating with a passion.   So anyway, I made it a thing to read all the ‘hated’ books.” – she said.


Little Black Book - Tersiiska

He sat down now, opposite her without asking.  Looking down he saw a little black book that she put thelist of hated things on.  While sitting there suddenly silent. Lost for words.  She picked up the little black book, pressed a small button and the eBook flashed to life.

‘Look’ she said showing him.

Wow!. An ebook that actually looks like a notebook he thought.

A table of contents appeared and in it he could see for himself.  At least 50 titles.  All books he hated.. but no .. there were some of his favourite books in there. ‘How could anyone hate that book?   ..  I loved that book !’ he said, looking up at her.

‘Yes but I found that now I love all of the books that people love to hate and I love to understand now why the authors had written them.

Suddenly he felt exhausted.  Not only were some of the books those he loved but others things that his friends had said they hated.  All listed and downloaded into the little black book.  Slowly he got up suddenly feeling trapped and claustrophobic, he had to get out of the shop. Walking toward the door he saw his own face in the reflection of the glass door.  Grimus he thought. ‘ Perhaps I’ll read it’. What else did Rushdie write ?.


Photo: Tersiiska/Flickr – Copyright 2014.

Time passing a happy moment in the square

Chris Smith - Le Halles St Claire Grenoble

There’s the faint sound of the clock tick being drowned by the bubbling in the fountain. Apart from that minor motion it had been quiet that morning in the square.   Later the market had opened as normal and fast sales of fish cheese ham wine meats olives and all sorts of produce got revving up throughout the day.  That morning too, a local couple had gone to work in the midst of an argument. He to his office some miles from the square and she to her own boutique just a short walk away. She’d stormed out of the house and caught a bus into town instead of normally getting dropped off by her husband.  On the strength of that, he decided to get in his new convertible and get to the office car park early.

When the offices closed for the day, she walked down to the market having calmed a little and waited for her husband to pick her up.  Normal time being 6:30pm in winter as it was.  As she sat by the fountain and thought through the day she somehow regretted being so impetuous with the email she’d sent that afternoon.  ‘How dare he’ … ‘just go buy a sports car like that’ .. who was he trying to impress ?’. she thought.  It was cold on the fountain step outside the hall and when the normal time ticked past she felt she should probably give him another chance.

His nice fast black car slowed a little as it drove through the square about an hour later.  Looking out the window he saw her there waiting. ‘Stupid’ he thought and sped off at a great rate.

For some reason possibly the effect of the fountain and the clock she felt happy.  If he came back around the block, well then good.  If he didn’t well then good for that too and begone with the car.